Independent Wizard Training
by burningmerlin
Summary: A mysterious and unknown new class appears among the electives for Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts, and Hermione just HAS to know. Shenanigans and smut ensue.


Hello all! Welcome to my first ever story. If you couldn't tell by the rating, I'll warn you one more time. This is for mature audiences only. It's basically a Harry/Hermione smut fic. IF YOU ARE NOT 18, YOU SHALL NOT PASS! If you have any comments, questions or requests, make them known in the comments. HMU if for some weird reason you really want to edit my future work. It will become clear that I am poor at catching all the errors despite my best efforts. Nor am I particularly good at formatting. Also, before I forget:

Disclaimer: I do not own or profit off of any of J.K. Rowling's characters, stories or intellectual property, nor do I intend to.

OK, without further ado, enjoy my first try!

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, was feeling a sense of dread as professor McGonagall walked along the Gryffindor table of the great hall, passing out options for the first semester at Hogwarts. Harry, in his 5th year, happened to love school, but the actual schoolwork played less to his liking than the magic and all his friends. His feeling of anxiousness was interrupted, however, by a shrill exclamation from one of his two best friends, Hermione.

"Ooh! I can't wait to see the classes I can take this year, she said, bouncing up and down beside Harry.

"If you don't stop that, I'm gonna have to jinx you still 'mione," said Ron, a partially devoured piece of sausage dangling from his lips. "Besides, nobody else shares your enthusiasm. We all like school, but we don't want to marry it."

Hermione looked over to him, an indignant look on her face and said, "_SOME_ of us want to become more powerful and productive in society Ronald, so don't you be cross with me!"

"Bloody Hell Hermione, calm down a bit eh?" said Ron, red in the face as he returned his whole hearted attention to his dinner.

"Hermione's right," said Harry. "We need to actually try in school this year so we can fulfil our personal training goals. If that means coursework, then it's for the best. We all need to be prepared for the new age of Voldemort, and we all know he'll be coming for me soon."

The training program idea was devised by Harry's Godfather, Sirius Black, who, upon hearing Harry retell his failure to stop the return of Voldemort, paced about the hall worriedly.

"Look Harry," He had said, "I think you and your clever friends should be worrying less about school and more about becoming formidable foes. I've only seen Voldemort one time, as he fled the scene of your parents murder, but I know that if he was able to defeat your father and mother, you stand no chance against him as it is now. If you can't beat him out of sheer force, you and your friends need to devise some new combat magic. Something. Anything. I don't want to lose my only family."

Harry had reassured him, promising to begin training in his free time with his friends. Already, he and Hermione had devised a new way to cast a stunning spell that could split into six projectiles rather than only one. Hermione had volunteered to try it on ron, who unbeknownst to him, would not be able to block all six at the same time. Needless to say, the result was a decidedly quieter Ron Weasley. Harry knew that the modified stunner was only the tip of the iceberg though, and though school work was a drag, the payoff was worth it.

Reaching out and grabbing a scroll from Professor McGonagall, he quickly scanned the list of electives for the Defense against the Dark Arts Classes, making a note to sign up for the dueling class, and the spellweaving class. Having done this, Harry set the roll of parchment aside, feeling rather disinterested in anything else on the list. Hermione however, was scanning through the list of classes with the intensity of an owl. A sudden pout appeared on her face, and she called for McGonagall.

"What is it, Miss Granger, questioned the witch, expecting the worst from the ambitious little academic.

"Well professor, I would be very interested in knowing what class you have taken great lengths to blot out on this page," said Hermione, pointing to a blackened section of the list.

McGonagall frowned, and said, "Dear, the class you are referring to is blotted out for a reason. It was deemed unsuitable for all but the seventh years. You will have to wait and see in your seventh year."

"But professor-" Hermione tried, before being silenced.

"No buts about it Miss Granger. Seventh years only," McGonagall said as she stalked down the Gryffindor table yet again, answering the questions of the other students.

"It's a shame, really," said Ron, who had just polished off his dinner. "That's probably the secret training for some of the most powerful magic in this place. We could have used that in our training." Hermione began fidgeting again, something she did when she didn't want to begin hurriedly talking about magical history, the intricacies of spellcraft, or an essay she'd written. She was twirling her wand around, concentrating on the dilemma at hand. Harry wondered why Hermione, the brightest witch in the school was being barred from a class. She was already miles ahead of tons of other students. He was about to ask her what she was thinking when they heard a loud shriek and collective gasps coming from the Slytherin table.

Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl with a pinched face, a petite frame and shoulder length black hair was stretched out, naked and prone on the table in front of the Slytherin house. Her pussy was clenching on a carrot, which had seemingly been bewitched to fly in and out of her pale sweating body. Her muscles strained against some invisible force spreading her legs and holding her arms above her head. Her robes floated lazily above the scene, slowly drifting up and away from the ashamed and aroused girl.

"Aaaah!" Pansy screamed in shame and pleasure as the carrot began to work deeper into her slick womanhood, clearly coating the carrot in girl cum. "I'll kill whoever did this!" she growled, hands and feet unable to move in invisible binding. Suddenly, the great hall went pitch black.

The sound of Dumbeldor's magnified voice boomed through the hall, "ENOUGH! ALL OF YOU BESIDES THE STUDENTS IN QUESTION WILL WAIT IN YOUR DORMITORIES AND FINISH YOUR SCHEDULES. SHAME ON WHOEVER DID THIS!"

The lights returned, one by one, from a device in Dumbledor's outstretched hand and the students stood and promptly exploded into gossip and laughter.

"Serves the girl right for being such a bitch, but merlin's trousers that was hot," Ron shouted over the clamor of students exiting the hall. Uncharacteristically, Hermione did not scold the redhead. In fact, she was red as his hair and trembling a bit.

Harry decided to step in and said, "Ron, say what you will about Pansy, but could you imagine if that happened to Hermione? Or Ginny? Or any Gryffindor?" Ron's look darkened.

"I see your point mate. I'd kill whatever son of a troll did that to a Gryffindor. All the same, she is a bitch," said Ron, as they shuffled along the corridor with the Gryffindor House.

"And it was hot," said Hermione quietly. Realizing her mistake, she clamped her hands over her mouth, blushing furiously, but Ron and Harry only raised their eyebrows.

"It's not like that, she said, I like guys too. I have to watch myself around Harry in particular. And Ron isn't too shabby either. It's perfectly normal. Just cause I fancy you guys shouldn't mean I can't be attracted to anyone else. Oh dear, I really need to stop talking out loud," said Hermione, a look of horror on her face. Before Ron and Harry could even react, she ran off to the girls dormitories, still wearing a bright red complexion.

Harry and Ron looked after her with incredulous looks on their faces.

Ron began,"Do you think we should-"

"No, you remember the last time you tried to go up the girls stairs. You landed flat on your arse," said Harry. Both boys were clearly worried about Hermione, but at the same time, had no idea how to react to the fact that she had just admitted her attraction to the two of them. Harry thought about it. Obviously, they had been close friends for ever, but he'd never really thought of Hermione in that way. She was beautiful for sure, in a nerdy girl "I'm really innocent" kind of way, but this new development had him thinking about other things. Like whether Hermione was more of a sexual creature than she let on. Of course, the incident with Pansy was pretty ridiculous. Even a eunuch would have gotten horny after witnessing that episode. Of course, Pansy had been downright awful for as long as he could remember, particularly to Hermione. Her favorite hobby was to spread false rumors, and strut around looking down on the "mudbloods" around her. If you crossed her, you would find yourself facing Draco Malfoy and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle. Besides that, she was ruthless in her capacity to destroy reputations. Her favorite plaything was Neville, who, according to her, was so engrossed in herbology and exotic plants that he snuck out to the greenhouse at night to get butt fucked by the Venomous Tentacula. Of course, this idea was preposterous, and many of the Gryffindors would rather believe the rumor that Pansy was a notorious slut. Harry didn't really believe any of it. Loads of people hated Pansy Parkinson and had good reason to do so. Still, he didn't think she deserved what she got at dinner. It seemed criminal.

Harry asked Fred and George this question after stepping through the portrait of the fat lady to the crowded Gryffindor common room.

"As it turns out, it doesn't matter if it was criminal or not, because anything short of death or the forbidden curses is legal, strictly speaking. We've taken advantage of that fact over the years, though we did break the school rules a few times," said Fred, winking at Harry before turning to his schedule. "Holy shit George, did you see the class they're offering the seventh years?" he exclaimed, blinking and then looking down at the electives list again.

"I know right?" said Fred, wiggling his eyebrows. "I've never actually wanted to be in a class so BAD."

Harry, not wanting to be left out of the very information that had left Hermione mystified earlier, craned in to look, but all he could see was a black smudge.

"What is it?" he asked, befuddled. "It's blotted out."

"Not for us", said Fred, who was still rubbing his hands together with glee. He began to speak, presumably to tell Harry about the censored class, but a black vapor materialized under his nose and smothered his words.

"Blimey, said Harry, wondering what the hell Dumbledor thought so dangerous he needed to so completely isolate the younger students from it. "I'll figure it out somehow," he said, drifting off to find Ron, having already figured out his schedule at dinner. For some reason, Fred and George doubled over with laughter, as though Harry's last statement was the funniest thing they'd ever heard.

"Good luck mate! Check room 307!" shouted Fred as he trudged off through the mass of Gryffindors.

Shaking off the weird experience, Harry sat on the arm of one of the chairs in the commons room, looking at Ron.

"What do you suppose could that class is about?" Harry asked the boy.

"Obviously it's got something to do with really dark magic, or history of dark magic," he replied, "but I don't understand why they can't even _tell_ us what it is."

"Yeah, or maybe they're trying to make it mysterious so we're more excited when we get to 7th year, Harry said, his eyes drooping. "Whatever it is, it's in room 307. I'm really tired. All that food really put me out. I think I'll go off to bed."

"OK, see ya mate,"said Ron as Harry took his leave.

As he trudged up the stairs to his room, he wondered about Hermione's outburst. Did she actually fancy him? And Ron? Somehow, the girl liked all sexes, and seemingly found the incident with Pansy just as arousing as all the guys had. The young wizard found himself getting horny at the thought, reminding himself that he watched a girl completely naked, having sex with a carrot from dinner. And for a while, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Curse communal living situations, he thought.

Per his usual style, Harry opted to sleep without nightclothes. Because he was always the first one up in the boy's dormitory, he never had to worry about the other guys seeing anything they didn't want to. If they did, he considered it unfortunate, but something he'd never really care about. He kept thinking about Hermione and her reaction to Pansy's embarrassment. Did that experience make her as horny as he was? How much (if at all) did Hermione really fancy him? He drifted off to sleep.

That night, Harry had an odd but wonderful dream. He was in a quidditch match against Slytherin, and each time they scored, someone on his team charmed the robes off of a player. Their opponents retaliated, and robes began flying off left and right. When one of the spells hit Pansy Parkinson, who just happened to be the other seeker in the dream, it was revealed she had nothing on under her cloak. Her robe flew of her sweating body as she mashed her clean shaven and glistening slut flesh into the polished handle of her broom. Harry for his part, found this voyeurism incredibly hot and fet his prick stiffen to the strength of steel. As he flew and more and more of both teams began losing their robes, he looked down at the audience, curious to what their reaction would be. Instead he found only Hermione, completely naked, stretched out and vigorously rubbing her hairy pussy at the spectacle. Hermione spewed liquid out of her quim into her bush, matting down her soft puff of brown pubic hair and stirring her cum into a froth. Her small breasts, bouncing slightly as she violated herself caught his attention too. They were absolutely perfect, and were he not in the air, Harry would have attended to them right away. Suddenly, Harry's own robes and underwear flew off, leaving him completely naked on his broom as he watched Hermione begin to fuck herself with the end of her wand. Her cries were so loud, he could hear them from his lookout, high above the field. Harry could feel the orgasm building in him even in his sleep. And then, he fell off his broom.

Strangely enough, the sensation of orgasm only grew as he fell, screaming, towards the ground. Harry did not wake up, however. He watched, in his dream state, as the naked Slytherin seeker Pansy Parkinson landed beside him, clutching the snitch. Before he had time to react, she spread her butt cheeks and popped the golden snitch in her arse.

"For safekeeping, slave," she said. "If you're a good man whore I'll let you suck on it later."

Pansy stepped over him, her pinched face smirking down at him while she dripped her clear fuck lube all over his dick. Pansy's black raven hair was mussed from flying at top speed, and her pale naked body was secreting sweat, hormones, and the sharp and wonderful smell of sex. Her plump mound was devoid of hair, and her pink pussy continued to ooze her cum down the sides of her pale shapely legs and all over a bewildered Harry. And then she sat down, sheathing all 8 inches of Harry Potter's cock deep inside her. Harry could wait no longer. He came, shooting tendrils of jizz into Parkinson. As he rode out his orgasm, pumping more and more cum into the Slytherin Slut, he remembered he as dreaming. Oh shit, he thought, slowly waking up to the orgasm. This will be a mess to clean up.

Harry forced his eyes open all the way, and instead of seeing at the ceiling, as he expected, he stared right into the eyes of Hermione Granger. Harry quickly realized two things. One: his privates were not hidden from view by any means. Two: he had splattered cum all over his front side from the titanic event he could only assume had happened only moments ago. He quickly reached down to cover the unfortunate scene from Hermione, who was still looking at him with a great blush that shone through the darkness.

"''Mione, what in merlin's name are you doing here? He asked, still feeling groggy and disoriented from his quick action.

Hermione shook herself and said, "I was just coming up here to ask if I could borrow your invisibility cloak. And then I saw you. And your ... thing. And..." she shrugged. "I still need that cloak, would you lend it to me?"

"First, I'm sorry about my appearance. I hope it didn't tickle your fancy too much said Harry, wiggling his eyebrows. "Second, can you tell me what you're using the cloak for?"

"Yeah. I'm going to go find out what the censored class is. It woke me up and I just can't stand not knowing. Please can I use it Harry?" she said, looking a bit worried, perhaps because of the conversation they were having in a room with a dozen sleeping boys.

"Maybe later, I'll make it worth you while," Hermione whispered, while rubbing a hand along one of her breasts through her red polka dotted nightie.

"Hermione, this is so out of character for you," Harry said, unbelieving of his situation. "You really don't have to. Just take the robe."

"You don't understand Harry, I want to, Hermione said, setting one of her hands on the bulge in the sheets that was Harry's cock as though it might bite her.

"OK Hermione," gasped Harry as his meat met Hermione's hand through the sheets. My cloak is in the trunk. We'll talk about this later eh?" Harry watched Hermione's cute little bum through her nightie as she bent down to get the cloak from his trunk at the foot of his bed. She gave him an intentionally good view, with the bottom of her cheeks coming into view as she rummaged through the trunk. Suddenly he found imagining sex with Hermione easy. As she straightened back up, Harry remembered his conversation with the Weasley twins from earlier.

"Hermione, Fred and George said to check room 307," he said, whispering to her as she put the cloak on, sadly disappearing from view.

"Ooh I'll start there for sure then Harry," whispered Hermione. "Here, take this as proof I will honor my promise of your reward," she said, and her nightie materialized in thin air and landed on his bed. "I masturbated in it earlier, just for you... God, honestly, I'm becoming such a bad girl," she giggled as she swept from the room. Harry could only agree.


End file.
